Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The romantic super-sleuther

Only a master like Pablo Neruda could make a poem that begins with "I love it when you shut up" romantic, but my setting alongside the Rio Guadalquivir in the sun as I did my 'homework' yesterday certainly helped him out. Said homework was to practice aloud and memorize the poem to improve our fluidity and pronunciation. The combination of the sun, the view, and the joyful 'task' at hand brought confirmation that I had picked a very apt name for my blog- the enchanted life indeed! By the way, upon my return, I will be taking requests for anybody who would like to be serenaded. You can get a preview of that here.

Besides practicing my Spanish woo-ing skills, I have also been sharpening my sleuthing skills as well. Generally speaking, my sleuthing skills have come in handy far more often than my woo-ing skills. Thus far, my sleuthing skills (combined with Amanda's) have led me to discover that Spanish people don't age. In my last post, I mentioned that my house madre was probably in her late 50's or so, and her son in his late 20's. Apparently, Loli is nearly 70 and Alberto nearly 40! As I just recently watched El Crepusculo (dubbed Twilight... and no, listening to Eduardo in Spanish did not make the movie any better) on the train from Madrid to Sevilla, my best guess on how this is possible is that I'm actually living with vampires. Amanda, on the other hand, is hoping that it's something in the Sevillan water and, accordingly, we're both keeping well hydrated!

Unfortunately, my sleuthing skills were not quick enough to save me from eating fish ovaries at lunch. While ordering tapas, or small plates, I incorrectly assumed that huevas were the same as huevos (eggs). When it was brought to the table, it was immediately apparent that it was not like any egg I had ever seen before, but I would bravely give it a try. After it flaked in my mouth in little pellets, I decided I had better ask the waiter what exactly it was that I was eating. He explained to the table, with a amused smirk on his face, that huevas was an ovary and that we had just consumed tons of baby fish eggs. It was the definition of "close, but no cigar!"

Lastly, to speak to Hayley's complaint about my blog that there weren't enough pictures, I have created a photo album online that I'll be adding to as I go: http://s1019.photobucket.com/albums/af318/haleyrr/Sevilla/

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